


Sick day

by saltiie



Series: idol au [2]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Bodyguard Shiro, Idol AU, M/M, Mutual Pining, Shiro is sick, Sick Character, Sick Fic, idol keith, keith can't stay away very long
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-22
Updated: 2018-07-22
Packaged: 2019-06-14 08:45:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,699
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15385071
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/saltiie/pseuds/saltiie
Summary: “ K-Keith?” He asks, and he has to clear his throat before his voice remembers how to work again.“ What are you doing here? Don’t you have a shoo-““ I can’t.” and Keith’s voice sounds panicked, as if he’s seen more shit than he can deal with and he’s been changed for it. Shiro feels some amount of fear.





	Sick day

**Author's Note:**

> if you notice any errors please let me know !

  
It feels simultaneously like he’s been asleep for years but also been awake for just as long. Over the past few days it had been getting more and more difficult to breathe and his head throbbed painfully. He almost never gets sick, so he’s not sure how this happened, but here he is wallowing in a nest of sinus pain, tissues and blankets.    
  
His place is a mess and really he doesn’t have enough energy in him to tidy up, let alone think about it. He’d barely had enough time to call in - to call Keith and let him know that he’d organised a substitute to watch over him while Shiro tries not to drown in a sea of mucous.    
  
For the remainder of the day he stays dozing, awake long enough to shift positions such that he could maybe try to get a breath in from the nostril that didn’t feel like twenty thousand tissues were having a party with his nasal bacteria. In his fever addled mind he wishes he could just make a noise complaint and he cold would leave. Wishful thinking. Delusional, really.    
  
In reality he only stayed up long enough at any one to text Keith and maybe get a bite or two from an apple or something as he waited for a response. It would always be fairly simple, as his brain could really only function on a very basic level. It would be like ‘ how are things ? ‘ or ‘ how are you ? ‘ and even despite his sickness he couldn’t help but be a litter paranoid, or protective, of the idol when he asks whether the fill-in guard was doing his job properly or if he was behaving appropriately - a funny question, but his cold afflicted mind felt it appropriate to ask.    
  
The responses are always interesting, but mostly negative to some degree. In hindsight his stand in hadn’t done anything wrong, but something in him was just a little happy that the other guy wasn’t as welcomed. A small, smug, probably fever induced part.    
  
He’s asleep for the rest of the day after that, and the next two days go pretty much the same way.  The rest is doing wonders, thankfully, but he still feels fatigue weigh on his muscles - he realises he shouldn’t have insisted on carrying Keith’s umbrella for him on that one spontaneously raining day, ignoring his own soaked state so long as Keith remained warm and dry. He doesn’t regret that in the least though, but maybe laying out his coat over a puddle to walk across may have been a little over the top. He’s too tired to care at the moment though.    
  
It’s on the third day of his small break that he’s woken with a start - a break in his usual regime of eat, sleep, Keith, repeat. At first he thought maybe he was dreaming, a fever dream of sorts, but the panicked look in Keith’s eyes as he stares down Shiro makes his heart rate pound and he jolts into a seated position. “ K-Keith?” He asks, and he has to clear his throat before his voice remembers how to work again. 

  
“What are you doing here? Don’t you have a shoo-“ 

“I can’t.” Keith’s voice sounds panicked, as if he’s seen more shit than he can deal with and he’s been changed for it. Shiro feels a sinking dread grow in his gut. 

“You can’t?” He asks, not sure if he wants to even know but also he must, he has to. He has to protect him. 

“He followed me into the bathroom, Shiro. THE BATHROOM.” Well after hearing that he feels a mixture of understanding, the incoming rumble of a sneeze ( that he stifles ) and a large amount of angry confusion. What did he mean followed him to the bathroom?!?    
  
Shiro didn’t even know what to say, but he was more than likely going to have a strongly worded talk with this fill in - later though, when his voice stopped squeaking every second syllable. He files the thought away for now, though, focussing his cotton ball brain onto the beauty before him, more pressing issues on his mind now, temporarily clearing the flu from his conscience. “ How did you get here anyway?” And after he asks his face contorts, twitching as another sneeze wracks his body, hands flying to cover his face before the atomic mucous bomb explodes.    
  
Keith looks nonchalant as he walks through Shiro’s apartment, kicking aside tissues here and there in his path. Shiro knows he’ll probably be embarrassed later on but right now he’s just thankful Keith hasn’t said anything about it. “ I escaped through the window.” Shiro sputters at that, eyes wide. “ You what?”    
Keith has the gall to roll his eyes a little, seeming to have an objective in mind now. “ I escaped through the bathroom window - it was the only way I could get free.” He doesn’t even wait a breath before he’s talking again, seeming to want to derail from the topic, or at least felt like it wasn’t important to discuss anymore.    
  
“ I’m making soup.” And he strides into the kitchen, parting the tissue sea like he’s some sort of angel. And he is, to Shiro - but wait. His thought processes screech to a halt, and Shiro goes to stand up but he moves too quickly and he’s back on the couch in seconds with a groan, too dizzy to get back up. Keith at least has the decency to stick his head back out to check on him. But taking one look at him in an apron and suddenly hundreds of rose tinted, domestic, daydreams filter through his head and he’s so glad he can blame the fever for the flush on his cheeks. But dread quickly follows after the gay wave, remembering just what Keith and kitchens usually mean. “ Please don’t burn down the kitchen.” He manages to squeak out, head laying back into the pillow, eyeing what he can of Keith from what little he can see of the kitchen.    
  
Keith simply hums, saying with tune more than words that Shiro doesn’t need to worry , he’s got this and Shiro just leaves it at that, maybe adds a little prayer too before he finds himself dozing off to the image of Keith in an apron.    
  
He wakes to the smell of something burnt and his mind is reeling, instincts kicking in from the time he used to volunteer firefighter. He springs away, already moving from his makeshift bed but he stubs his toe with a curse and then he’s down for the count.    
  
“Shiro?” He hears Keith’s worried, but not overly panicked voice. Shiro looks up to see him hurry into the room, hands full of soup and a glass of water that he hastily places on the table before he’s by Shiro’s side and placing an arm around him, helping him up. At least there was something positive that could come from being sick, he gets to lay in Keiths arms just a little longer. To make sure he’s not feeling dizzy, of course.    
  
Once he’s settled again, and Shiro is sat beside him, he’s attention is brought back to Keiths ‘soup’ and he’s torn. He’s so torn. He’s looking up at Keith, soft and worried eyes focussed solely on him, who’s holding out a spoon of something that honestly looks like tar.  He can’t identify what it is at all, looking dark and sticky and undoubtedly burnt from the smell alone, even with a blocked nose he can tell. He’s scared to eat it, honesty, but then Keith’s holding out the spoon expectantly - and god he’s trying to feed him. Self preservation wars with his self indulgence of his massive crush on Keith and he stars at the sight before him before sighing, lifting himself up to take the spoon in his mouth. Who knows, they do say charcoal is good for the health. Maybe. The gay thoughts won, like always.   
  
He holds back the wince as it slides down his throat, he really hopes he doesn’t die from this but the way Keith is looking at him makes it worth it. Somehow he manages a good half of the bowel before he can make up the excuse of being full.    
  
After that his memory is a little more hazy, but the taste of burnt mystery soup remains a strong presence anyway. He’s gently fed water, not really helping the taste but maybe making it easier to get through his system, and then his mind’s a blur as he feels a hand through the soft tuft of hair in his eyes. He treasures the moment, really, regardless of how much of a mess he must seem and how much over the daily intake of none-charcoal he’s consumed in the past half hour. He cherishes it and can’t help the sleepy smile on his face as he leans into the touch, managing a soft “ Thanks, Keith”, as the affection pulls him back to sleep before he can hear a reply, but the soft look in Keith’s eyes is all he needs.    
  
————

  
It’s days later that he finds out the massive impact his absence. Typically he doesn’t have his social media notifications set up - he has to focus on work and Keith - and he’s never really found a need to. He never really even posts up all that much, maybe the odd photo of a particularly nice meal, a repost of a particularly good cat meme or some type of update about Keith.    
  
This time, however, he finds himself overwhelmed. Hundreds of messages full of worry about whether he was okay, where had he gone? As well as some that seemed far stranger, yet probably still just as worried. He scrolled through, not even sure where to start when he sees some of Keith’s interactions and he can’t help but let out a sigh, hands smoothing over his face. He manages a short response letting everyone know he was alright and that he’d just been under the weather before he heaves himself up from the couch.  It was going to be a long day, but at least he gets to see Keith.

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for the response to the first oneshot ! i hope this is just as well recieved. has everyone recovered from the s7 info because i certainly haven't yet ! it feels like a dream still, but congrats on shiro and a BIG thank you for vld ! i'm already working on part 3, mostly fuelled by the feels from that, so enjoy some of the lighter tones while you can.
> 
> if you wanna yell at me about sheith im over at tumblr o/


End file.
